


Confessions of a Jock

by OneLetteredWonder



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cliche, Gen, Goth Patton, Jock Virgil, M/M, Multi, Nerd Roman, Punk Logan, Slow Burn, Trope Subversion/Inversion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-04-28 17:49:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneLetteredWonder/pseuds/OneLetteredWonder
Summary: Virgil is the pride and somewhat joy of the cross country team just trying to get through junior year at a new school. From loud history nerds who don’t stop singing and that one goth kid who always has lollipops, his anxiety makes him wish he could just run away from it all. Still, there are some nice things too, like his team, and that one punk kid who always seems to be there for him.





	1. Prologue: Panicked Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mild panic attack descriptions, swearing?

Virgil swallows hard, staring up at the large red banner telling him exactly where he is. It sends something wicked curling in his stomach that he does his best to ignore. He glances over to his parents, ever trying to be supportive, with signs of his name and words of encouragement at the ready standing behind the ropes blocking the public from the path. They see him looking their way and his mom waves excitedly. He swallows again and does the only thing he supposes he can do in this situation.

He finds a small patch of grass off to the side not near many of what feels like  _hundreds of people_ and sits, spreading out his legs and stretching. Many others are stretching as well, curling their legs to make sure their muscles are not cold for when the race will begin. That something wicked flares up when an announcer tells them they have five minutes to get to the start line.

His parents mean the best, they really do, he knows this. Still being woken up early in the morning and told to get ready to run had not been expected or appreciated. The half-marathon they signed him up for  _had_  been something he talked about, never at length of course, but enough for them to take liberties into their own hands and sign his name up.

He skips over to them right quick to get another swig of water, something to try and kill that awful feeling. The water doesn’t help and neither does his parents’ words of good luck. He smiles for them anyway then joins the rest of the people. So many people, there’s too many people. He takes a deep breath and it comes out more shaky than he wishes, eyes glancing to everyone around him.

They are all dressed in their running garb. Shorts and athletic tight t-shirts, some have headbands and others have water bottles on their hips. Bright colors and whites and smiling faces. His hands clench tight around the hem of his athletic long sleeve, a deep purple color that hugs his body so the sweat he knows will happen isn’t rubbing him badly or able to be seen as well. He swears he’s the only person wearing full length sweats. He tugs at those too and drops down to maybe hide himself from everyone but also re-tie his shoes for the third time. White and splattered with black and three silver lines going across the sides. A gift from his parents just a few months ago. Maybe this is why.

There’s an announcement, and shuffling of people getting closer to the start line causing him to feel far too crowded. He jumps up to not get crushed and suddenly breathing is hard to come by and for a moment his vision goes foggy. Then a loud  _bang_  is sounded from a speaker. On auto pilot his feet take him forward, running with the crowd down a road lined with arrows so they know where they are going. Breathing comes easier as he runs, focusing instead on going, and going, and just keep going.

It reminds him of how much he enjoys this in the first place. Maybe sure it had been a tactic of his childhood. Run fast enough and no one can catch you, especially useful when your bullies are bigger and stronger but slower. Virgil had been small and weird but lean and quick. No one could keep up with him and he used that to his advantage even if he had to run the entire recess period.

Now however, there are no playground bullies to worry about but the demons in his head. Anxiety became a prominent part of his life the older he got and running away from his problems didn’t work, but the running itself surprisingly did. He had tried to run away once only to find at the end of his trek the feeling in his stomach had subsided and clearer thoughts had been found.

It became his crutch. As he entered school the work load and the strange looks from his peers had his stomach in knots. The running helped untie it, gave him something to do that turned that nervous energy on it’s head. He’s surprised at how well it works, but he’d rather something work than sit and wallow in the feeling. It gets him out of the house at least.

The sound of the other runners is one of the only things he can hear, his feet slapping on the pavement mingling with theirs. The awful feeling has subsided more so and he’s okay now. Better than before at least. He falls in line with a few other runners, them going at a decent pace and laughing to themselves. They smile when they notice him and though he smiles back, he doesn’t want to keep pace with them.

They are talking happily, enjoying each other even if they don’t know each other. The idea of talking, small talk or other wise, has him pushing himself just a little faster to pull away from the group and off on his own for now. He doesn’t look back as they yell at him to do good. He won’t look back at all.

He passes a few more people, some that look around his age and some younger, and then younger still running with parents as best they can. The ones his age also smile and he has to duck his head down and go faster still to get past them. Adults and kids are hard to talk to but teenagers his age, like a certain song he loves, scare him.

He’s never been good talking to anyone his age at his school. They thought him strange and odd and he’s okay with that at least, just not the lingering looks and the knowing feeling they are staring at him. There have been one too many panic attacks in the restroom and no friends to help him through them. Friends are hard to come by when no one talks to you and you can’t talk to anyone without feeling like you’re going to die by doing so.

Then his parents’ job moved them to a new state. He spent the entire first month of his summer break outside running around an old out of the way park, trying desperately to keep himself calm and thoughts away from the impending doom of a new school. He knew his junior year wouldn’t have been good at his old school, now he’s sure it will suck regardless.

He passes another bundle of people, large and stockier and shoving each other in what he hopes is a playful manner. They cheer when he gets closer asking him questions that he mumbles answers too. Staying near them sends his head reeling and he pushes himself to go even faster. He can handle the pace he’s set, but he’s not sure for how long.

There had been so many people in line for this race, he’s passed quite a few of them now. Breath is burning in his lungs but he keeps going. It’s exhilarating in a way the ache that’s starting to spread throughout his body. For a moment a smile spreads across his face in the lack of people around him to judge his expression.

Those along the sidelines are blurs, though the fringe in his face doesn’t help. It’s sweat soaked but he doesn’t care enough to push it out of his face. It’ll look weird that way, but then again he probably looks weird already. Red faced though he put way too much sunscreen on already and sweating. With a scowl now he shakes his head quick to get those thoughts out of his head.

He takes as even of a breath as he can. There’s a sign coming up and a new gaggle of people. That twisting in his stomach is back. As much as he would like to slow down and be with people, they are already talking and running close. He can’t interrupt that. So he passes them and the sign that tells him he’s half way there.

The sun shines and there are clouds filtering in and out. His feet hurt and are swelling up. The new shoes are nice though and have some decent cushion to them. He doesn’t have a watch on and can’t tell how long he’s been running. He’s sure he’s never run this far in his life. His legs ache and feel like jelly and there’s still some time to go. He’s pushing too much and he knows it, but he can’t stop. If he stops then all those people he passed will come back and that’s.. he can’t be in that awkward situation.

He nearly stumbles, eyes going wide and catching his balance but only barely. There’s cheering up ahead and not many people. They are all behind him, passed long ago in the early stages of the race. He can make up the foggy forms of his parents up ahead. They are shouting and waving their stupid signs with his name on them. He swallows a breath that makes his throat almost close up, and makes himself go faster.

It hurts, it’s painful, and he almost falls again as he passes at least one more person, maybe two, he can’t very well tell, and crosses the finish line with the last bit of force he can muster in his body. It hurts, his lungs are on fire, it hurts. He swallows hard and his throat is dry. He keeps moving though, walking so his muscles don’t clench up and leave him in pain. Someone comes by to take down his race number and name. He gives it breathlessly.

“You did it!” He hears a voice calls and musters up a a very tired smile for his mother. He accepts the water gratefully, taking a long drink, and nearly passing out due to the lack of oxygen. He points over to the path and his parents wave him on with words of pride.

He walks dazed in a circle to cool down, drinking the water as slow as he can to not hurt himself. Slowly but surely his breathing returns to an even pace and he gives no shits as he flops to a patch of grass to stop moving. With a dramatic groan he throws an arm over his eyes. He’s aching and sore and oh so tired. Yet a small smile graces his face because that had been so much fun.

“Hey!” He lifts his arm to see someone leaning over him, them panting as well with a rainbow colored top on and bright blue hair. He pushes down the lump in his throat and blinks at them.

“Do you go to Picani High?” They ask. Virgil slowly pushes to a sitting position.

“I uh, do now? I’m new,” He mutters out. He takes a drink of water to give him something to do. The person in front of him smiles bright and sits in front of him, sticking out their hand. It takes an awkward moment but he shakes it eventually.

“I’m Talyn. I’m the captain of the cross country and track team at school.” They say. Virgil nods not knowing what else to say. They just keep smiling at him and even though he just ran a legit half marathon, the curling in his stomach makes him itch do to more.

“I wanted to ask if you wanted to join the team,” Talyn says with such a bright smile it’s blinding and Virgil’s panic increases. It’s clear they notice by the drop in their face and they begin to fret for him.

“You don’t have to! You’re just a really good runner and we could always use more people ah I’m sorry!” They try to calm him and he slaps both hands to his mouth, forcing himself to take slower breaths. Eventually he’s calm again, calm enough at least.

“I never, uh, done anything, like that, before,” He stutters then clarifies.

“Never joined a team before.” Talyn smiles now.

“It’s pretty fun, we just get together and run a lot,” They laugh and hold out their phone. Virgil just looks at it.

“If you want, I can text you later about practice days and you can decide if you want to join us. No pressure of course.” Virgil stares at them, then does just that. His hands shake as he hands the device back with his number plugged in. Talyn waves and is walking away, stretching as they go. He stands and regrets sitting as his body feels tight. Shit.

He’s stretching weirdly on his walk back to his parents, trying not to think that everyone is staring at him for doing so. They greet him with loud cheers and he hides his face in his sleeves.

“You did so well darling!” His mother wraps her arms around him and his father pats his head. He manages a smile for them.

“Who was that who came and talked to you?” He asks. Virgil looks over to where Talyn is now, talking with a few other people who are wearing similar shirts, the high school initials on their backs. He waves lightly when the entire team waves his way.

“The cross country team captain, they uh.. asked me to join,” He says. His parents beam. They walk back to the car and he climbs in the back. He stares out the window at the team, thoughts wondering if it would be worth it to join them. It could be nice he decides, but not nearly as nice as the bath he’s going to take once he gets home. 


	2. Meet the Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mild panic attack descriptions, swearing.

Two weeks before school starts. All the summer reading has been read and all the paperwork for his transfer is filled out. It’s a decent afternoon and Virgil is stuck staring at his phone with a text from an unknown number yet to be opened on his screen. He just barely woke up and yet that clawing in his stomach is begging to be let out.

Closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths, he opens the message and squints at it with one eye. As he reads the message he relaxes and just the barest twitch of a smile crosses his face.

_Hey Virgil! It’s Talyn from the race a few weeks ago. We’re having a CC team meet up to do an awkward get to know each other thing and I wanted to know if you would like to come?_

The race. It had been so much fun for him though he won’t admit it out loud. He spent three full days afterward refusing to move more than he had to, taking time to eat and stretch and sleep. He got results for the event a day after. Though he’s sure it’s an accident of sort, he placed 2nd for his age group, 9th for the men’s, and 19th overall with a 2 hour and 43 minute end time. Out of about 300 other contestants. His parents bought him his favorite food because of it.

And Talyn. He couldn’t forget them. They wore rainbow and had blue hair. They hadn’t been mean to him either, and told him no pressure should he wish to not join the team but. There’s a nauseous feeling inside that makes him feel like he has to accept the offer. Talyn had gone out of their way to ask him, hadn’t they? It would be rude to refuse.

 _I could stop by at least?_  He types out. There, that’s noncommittal enough he supposes. Probably. He forces himself to sit up and put on pants, trying to get ready for whatever might be thrown his way. Worst case scenario he can run away. That’ll work. Another buzz from the phone in his hand.

 _Absolutely! We’re meeting at Elliott Park near the basketball court at 3_. Elliott Park. He can do that. It’s close to his new house. At least, he’s run there before and walked around a bit, then left when he saw a bunch of parents at the playground giving him weird looks. Probably because his hoodie had been over his entire face.

He doesn’t respond to Talyn this time, just meandering to his kitchen to find something to try and calm the bubbling in his stomach. It doesn’t help much, but he fills up his water bottle while he’s there. A purple plastic container with galaxy swirls painted on. A present long ago and one he cherishes.

“Where you headed?” His father asks when he spies Virgil slipping on his running shoes an hour later. Virgil’s father is a tall man with blonde hair slicked back to keep out of his face, but he claims it’s cause his wife likes it. She doesn’t. Virgil shrugs to the question.

“Out? Going to meet up with the, the uhm, cross country team?” It comes out more of a question than he means but his father nods stiffly and returns to his crossword puzzle. With no more conversation between them Virgil slips out the door with his backpack slung over his shoulder. It holds most of his valuable possessions, and should he be asked he would say it holds his entire life in its pockets.

Carefully he ties it around his hips and around his shoulders before taking off down the street at a leisurely pace. He makes his strides long to stretch his legs as he goes. It should take him a little under 20 minutes to get there, right on time. Maybe a little early, maybe a lot more than a little early.

There’s music playing from the speaker in his bag, something wild and loud that keeps him calm from the potential amount of people watching him. His hair bounces in his face and he doesn’t bother to push it out of the way. A hint of a smile crosses his face as his feet hit the pavement.

The park comes into view and he slows to a walk, the air feels cool and so does the water he downs half way. He swallows hard. The park is nice, with plenty of fields for running in the grass and baseball, and a playground for little kids. A basketball court is on the far side with picnic benches for parties and the like.

It’s earlier than he wanted to be there and it’s not the running that makes it hard for him to breathe properly. What if he’s the only one there? What if he’s actually the last one there? He wraps his arms around himself and stops walking. This is an entire new group of people he’s never met before. There are so many ways to screw this up. Before Virgil knows it he’s crouching on the ground with his hands on his head.

He can do this, he knows it, but he can’t. His body doesn’t want to move at all. No matter how many times he tells himself it’s okay, it will be okay. It’s not okay. Luckily there’s no one else around to see him as he freaks out. He’s not sure he can run away from it this time.

It takes many slow deep breaths but he manages to very carefully peel himself off the ground after a few minutes. Most of the panic has subsided but it’s still very prominent. His stomach is in knots but he forces his feet to move. Keep going, he reminds himself, just keep going.

Suddenly he spies a mess of pink hair sitting at a picnic table along with two other people. Sure he had been looking for blue, but pink works too. Especially when the pink haired person waves to him. That’s good right?

“Hey!” Talyn calls to him and he approaches the picnic table with a warry smile.

“Guys this is Virgil, he was at the race a few weeks ago,” Talyn introduces him. He takes the seat beside them when they pat the bench.

“This is Marco and Joan, they’re in my grade,” They introduce. The two say their hello’s and Virgil just waves. Slowly but surely other people show up, Talyn giving small introductions as they arrive. Sloane and Corbin are freshman, then there’s Steven, Missy, Parker, and Imani the sophomores. Brittney, who makes a wonderful grand late entrance, is also a senior with Talyn. There is no one else in his grade on the team.

“So what do you.. do? In cross country..” Virgil leans over and whispers to Talyn. They laugh and he shrinks in on himself feeling stupid for such a question.

“No don’t be embarrassed!” Joan tries to reassure him. Sloane slides onto the table in a dramatic pose.

“I have no idea what I’m doing either,” He says and Virgil has to smile just a little at that. Talyn stands and the rest of the team goes quiet to hear their captain speak.

“We do tournaments and marathons, practice consisting of speed and long term distances. Every morning, except Friday’s, we meet up at school before it starts,” they explain. Virgil fidgets with his fingers. It doesn’t sound like a bad idea, he wakes up way too early anyway.

“This year’s goal, if we can, is to make it farther in tournament than we have before and get our own personal times down.” That earns a bit of cheer from Joan and Marco while Virgil shifts in his spot. Can he do this? These people aren’t all bad sure, but to spend time with them running? We can barely run with music playing, hell he only did as good as he did in the race because he couldn’t be near people.

“You okay?” Marco leans close to him, keeping his voice low. Virgil nods but then shakes his head.

“I uh. I have a lot of anxiety so I uh, you know.” It’s the best he’s getting out of his mouth right now. Joan and Talyn nod to what he says.

“You don’t have to join,” Joan says plainly and Virgil shakes his head.

“It’s not that I don’t want to.” Does he want to?

“I just feel like I can’t. What if I’m not good enough?” The confession comes quiet and the air between them all gets even quieter. Should have kept his mouth shut. Shakily he stands from the bench.

“I should go,” He rushes out but before he can escape it’s Corbin putting a gentle hand on his arm.

“We’re all still learning, you don’t have to be good,” he says.

“Yeah!” Sloane throws an arm over both their shoulders. “As long as you’re willing to learn and try to get better than it’s all okay!” he shouts. Virgil wiggles out of the hold and wraps his arms around himself. His stomach hurts.

“I mean if, you want me to join,” He shrugs. He can’t say no. They’d hate him if he did, and they’ve been so nice this far. He can’t. He can’t disappoint them already.

“We’d love to have you!” Talyn says. He doesn’t accept their hug and they understand. He leaves soon after getting a schedule of the practice times and days, as well as marathon and meet days. He folds it into his backpack.

“Hey Virgil!” He jumps and stares wide eyed at Talyn standing with the rest of the team. They are all smiling at him. He clenches his jaw tight.

“It’s good to have you,” they say. The team waves and he musters a wave back, then hops up to the sidewalk along the edge of the street, and runs home. His feet hurt a little but the air is cool and refreshing for his mind and nerves. He joined the team. If he really can be a part of that team is up for debate but he did it. He can only hope he lives up to what they want him to do.

“How was the meet honey? Your father told me where you went,” his mom asks when he enters the house. He toes off his shoes and rubs his arm as he enters the kitchen. It smells delicious.

“It was okay, I uh, agreed to join the- the team,” he tells her. His mother gasps happily and pulls him into a hug that makes him tense up. She thinks nothing of it and smiles at him. Her face is covered in wrinkles from her laughter lines and she’s at least a foot shorter than him. He smiles back at her.

“I’ma go take a shower,” He tells her and heads towards the bathroom near his room. He flops to his floor first, staring at the ceiling and hoping, maybe, that knowing a few kids at the school, will make his first few days better. There’s a buzz from his backpack and he rolls over to open up the front pouch and take out his phone.

_Group Chat - CC Team_

_Talyn: I’ll see you all in a week for some warm ups. Feel free to text me anytime for questions, even if you think they’re dumb. Captain out!_

Virgil smiles at the text, a few more from the team coming in saying agreements and asking a few time related questions. He finds a smile on his face.

_Virgil: See you there._


	3. First Day into the Fray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Panic attack descriptions, second hand embarrassment, swearing.

Virgil’s hands are shaking even as they are shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. It’s not really cold enough outside to wear it just yet but he needs the security it provides. This is his first day at a new school and he’s lost. So damn lost. He’s not even sure where his first class is and Talyn even pointed him down the right direction.

The before school practice had gone good. Great in fact. He arrived on time, the same time as Britteny thankfully so she could walk him to where they needed to be. He met the Coach, a big black man who made very dry humor jokes. Well Virgil thought they had been funny at least. They did some warm up laps just to test where their strengths are and basically did stretching for an entire hour. But they did it as a team and after the running he managed to slip in a few of his own witty quips.

He’s forever thankful that the school has showers in a secluded section of the locker rooms. He brought an extra set of clothes with the intention to change, and the fact he doesn’t have to put it over a sweat soaked body made him calmer. At least he won’t smell bad his first day. Talyn told him the general direction of his class and left for their own.

Now he’s lost…. Shit.

He finds his locker first, breathing a sigh of relief at the fact. His hands are still shaking and his knuckles turn white from the hold he has on his book. He has his class schedule in front of his face, thoughts racing every direction as to where his math class might be. He glances from side to side, hiding his face when he spies a few people look his way with hands to their faces in whispers.

The locker a few spaces down opens up and for a second a smile graces his face.

“Hey Corbin,” His voice feels tight as he talks, having never really done that to his teammate. Corbin looks at him and then narrows their eyes.

“I’m not Corbin,” They say and Virgil can feel his face grow pale. He covers his mouth with a hand and tries so hard to keep calm.

“I’m.. I’m so sorry I didn’t. You look I mean I’m-” Words are so hard to do. So instead of trying to keep them going he slams his locker and finds the nearest restroom. He doesn’t look back.

The restroom floor is cold underneath him and he buries his head in his hands. How could he be so stupid? He knows Corbin changed into a green shirt after practice, that person wore red. They looked exactly the same though how could he just assume like that? Breathing is hard, his lungs won’t fill with air. It hurts, he wants to leave, he wants to run, he wants to get away.

Tears threaten to prick at his eyes and it’s only made so much worse by the fact a bell rings overhead signaling class will start soon. He can’t go in looking like this, can’t go in because he doesn’t know where he is anyway. He doesn’t know what to do, what can he do, there’s nothing he can do. Spending his first day panicking in the bathroom is exactly where his mind thought he’d end up anyway.

A door opens and he snaps his head up to the person who enters. They raise an eyebrow at him and Virgil gasps for air.

“Fuck,” The person says and leans down in front of him. Virgil wants to get away but they place their hands on his shoulders and force him to sit back against the wall. It’s cold. It’s cold and solid and he sucks in a deep breath of air.

“You need to breath, look at me,” They command. Virgil swallows hard and gasps again. The person in front of him groans.

“For fuck’s sake _look at me_ ,” They growl and Virgil has to look up. They are staring at him intently through a pair of dark rimmed glasses, one lens cracked in the corner, with eyes a dark brown they might as well be black. Virgil can barely make out the feel of his hand on their chest, rising up and down with their very, steady, breathing.

His own breathing mimics theirs after a moment, though his panic spikes when another bell, the you-are-now-officially-late-to-class-bell, rings. Still this student stays with him until he’s breathing okay and able to drink from his water bottle without hiccuping.

“What grade are you in?”

“Junior,” Virgil chokes out.

“You’re new.” They say and he nods. They hum and Virgil takes a glance up at his savior. Black ripped jeans with lace up boots. It almost clashes with their dark blue button up and black tie, but somehow it works. The words ‘Question Authority’ are written on the back of their worn leather jacket and dark blue streaks are in their black hair. He locks his eyes on his shoes as they look down at him.

“What class are you in now?” Virgil wordlessly holds up his schedule, listening as they ‘tsk’ at it.

“Fucking Tottles doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” They murmur. Virgil scrambles to follow them when they wave him on. He clutches his bag tight and doesn’t believe his eyes as his somewhat savior just opens the door to a classroom and waltzes in without care.

“Logan, late again I see,” The teacher says. Logan just raises an eyebrow to her too and nods his head for Virgil to follow. He holds his breath as he enters the classroom. Way to aware that everyone is looking at him.

“I was helping someone find the classroom,” Logan fires back at her. The teacher puffs up in anger and says nothing as Logan takes a seat in the back of the classroom with one leg propped up on the desk and book, that is definitely not this class’s book, in his lap. Virgil shuffles around the edge of the class to an empty seat near them.

“Thank you,” He squeaks out later when he feels he can talk. Logan just glances at him from the side and turns a page in his book.

“You are welcome,” He says back. Virgil hides in his hoodie the rest of class, not really registering what is being said. It’s the first day though so it’s not too bad to not pay attention. Half of the other kids aren’t either so he feels safe to wallow in his misery about the fact he had a panic attack.

The end bell rings sooner than he thinks. He turns to Logan only to find him gone and out the door already. So much for maybe asking him to help find his other classes. He returns to his locker as it’s the only thing he knows how to get to.

“Virgil!” That’s Corbin’s voice. Virgil turns to him and smiles a little, that smile wavering seeing the person next to Corbin, who looks exactly like them.

“This is my twin Terrence, they told me what happened earlier today.” Corbin says. Terrence waves.

“Sorry about that,” They say. Virgil makes a conscious effort to snap his jaw shut.

“Oh,” Is all he can say. Terrence smiles brightly at him while Corbin just sighs.

“We both get a little testy when people mix us up,” It’s a decent explanation and apologies rattle off Virgil’s tongue fast. Terrence laughs brightly though and waves it off.

“You didn’t know so you get a free pass,” They wink and walk off to their class. Before Corbin can follow he gets a small direction from them on where his next class might be. They wave and Virgil takes a deep breath. That could have gone worse.

He wanders the halls, reading every possible sign to make sure he’s going the right way. It doesn’t help and he’s still lost. With a frustrated groan he fills up his water bottle to give him something to do.

“We’re doing Pride and Prejudice this year right?” A student is bouncing up and down. Virgil would smile if not for the fact that they look super ridiculous. The teacher sighs at the student but smiles nonetheless.

“Yes Roman, we are do-”

“Yes!” They cheer and jump into the classroom, greeting a few other students as they go. Virgil creeps closer and the teacher notices him.

“Are you lost?” They ask kindly. Virgil holds out his schedule and the teacher smiles.

“You’re in luck, I’m Mrs Dot, welcome,” She smiles and Virgil ducks his head as he heads into the classroom. He takes a seat quickly and tries to hide in his hoodie as best he can. It doesn’t work when that student from earlier, Romano? comes over to him.

“Hi!” They practically shout and slide into the seat in front of him. Virgil blinks at them and pulls his hood closer.

“Hi,” He says back a lot less loud.

“I’m Roman!” They hold out their hand. Virgil shakes it, or rather, lets Roman shake it enough for the both of them. His hair is golden brown and his eyes a brilliant blue. His shirt has a periodic table of Disney’s princes on it.

“Virgil,” He offers his name and Roman is going off talking about how fun this class is and how excited he is that Virgil can’t get a word in. He wouldn’t know what to say even if he could. Class starts thankfully soon and Roman is up and back to the front of the class without another word. Virgil watches them as they sit with their head in their hands and a bright smile on their face as the teacher talks. They’re going over what they were supposed to read over the summer.

“Oh! I know! It’s showing different kinds of love that someone can have by expressing them through the characters.” Roman’s hand shoots up when a question is asked and answers before he’s even called on. This happens multiple times and the teacher is living for it. The rest of the students sit back and let the nerd and the teacher talk until the end of class.

“Hey newbie!” Virgil jerks when Roman throws an arm over his shoulder, dragging him down to Roman’s height. He’s short enough to do so. Virgil shoves him off though Roman doesn’t even look offended.

“What class do you have next?” He rips Virgil’s schedule out of his hands and begins to ponder it with a loud hum. He throws the paper back in Virgil’s face with a triumphant smile and Virgil shoots him a glare.

“You’re with me!” He links his arm with Virgil’s and drags him down the hallway, almost not letting Virgil go so he can get his textbook. He’s dragged into the classroom and Roman tries to force him to sit in the front by him.

“Shouldn’t you let him decide where to sit?” Logan’s cool voice interrupts Roman’s pleas. The punk walks to the back of the classroom and once more places one leg up on his desk. Roman groans.

“You’re in this class?” He demands. Logan just stares at him.

“No Roman, I’m just sitting here because I can.” The response makes Virgil snort into his hands and Roman flustered.

“You’re such a jerk!” Roman marches in front of Logan’s seat. Virgil takes the distraction to sit in a desk near the wall, closer to Logan, and watch.

“And you’re loud, obnoxious, and a try-hard but you don’t see me insulting you,” Logan says it with a straight face only smirking when Roman whines.

“Why are you so mean to meeeee,” Roman flops over Logan’s leg and rolls off when pushed. Logan sighs.

“Because I know you won’t take it seriously like everyone else.” Is the simple answer. To that Roman laughs and stands, ruffling Logan’s hair and skipping to the front again. It leaves Virgil wondering what the hell just happened.

The teacher greets them all and makes them play one of those ‘get to know you’ games. Logan absolutely refuses to participate and is threatened detention on the first day. He’s given that detention when he calls the teacher rude and disrespectful to them for not just getting on with the class but also forcing them to get to know each other when none of them give a shit.

He doesn’t say anything else, just accepts the punishment without another word. Virgil looks to him and Logan catches him looking. His glare softens and he rolls his eyes, returning to his book and ignoring everyone as they move around the class. Virgil cautiously gets up and goes over to him. He slides into the now vacant desk next to him.

“Why did you do that?” He asks quietly, curious. Logan sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

“I am not going to stay quiet when I disagree with something. These talk to each other games are ridiculous.” Virgil nods. He doesn’t like them because he can’t talk to people that well.

“Why did you just take the detention then instead of arguing against it?” Logan sighs again and Virgil wonders if he’s frustrated because he keeps asking questions.

“Because I understand that a teacher, in order to maintain control of a classroom, needs to be able to enact punishment to give the air of authority or it will be chaos.” He stops talking and Virgil just remains quiet by his side. Roman skips on back to them.

“One of the only things worse than chaos is stupidity,” Logan gives a pointed look at Roman who gasps and puts a hand to his chest dramatically. Virgil hides a soft laugh in his hand and Logan smirks. Roman gets over his mock hurt quickly.

“So detention on the first day, breaking a record for yourself aren’t you?” Roman teases and sits on Logan’s desk. Virgil can see Logan twitching, the urge to push Roman off his chosen desk very tempting. He refrains but only just.

“Incorrect as you may recall last year I received two detentions on the first day. I called one of the teachers a moron, then later in the day when I corrected another teacher they asked if I wanted to teach instead,” Logan glares at nothing in particular.

“Then when I got up to actually teach the class, she told me to sit my ass down, which I then proceeded to argue with her why she would ask me to teach the class if she was just going to take it back,” Logan’s face twists up in anger. In order to get the expression off Roman ruffles his hair. Virgil smiles softly at the scene of the two of them, wondering how long they’ve been friends, then when Roman kisses the top of Logan’s head, wonders how long they have been more.

“Imbecile,” Logan huffs but he’s smiling under his gruffness. Virgil returns to his get to know you sheet but doesn’t fill it out. Some come over to him and Logan and they participate though Logan begrudgingly and Virgil with much difficulty.

Roman links their arms when the class is over, dragging him out to the parking lot to take him to lunch. Logan follows with a blank expression.

“See you at my house?” Roman calls out, dragging Virgil to his car, a small cherry red thing. Logan smirks at him and turns to hike a leg over a sleek blue motorcycle. Virgil manages to get out of Roman’s hold before being forced into the car.

“I uh, rather stay here,” He chokes out. Roman blinks at him, then shrugs. He leaves Virgil with a wave out the window. Virgil heads back inside the school, to his locker, and to the small lunch he packed himself. He sits on the floor with his back to the cool metal. He eats in the hallway by himself. It’s a little lonely but, being alone is what he needs. There’s too many people and he needs recharge time.

Someone passes him in the hall, he doesn’t look at them. He doesn’t look at them until they walk back and stand in front of him. He blinks up at them and is unsure how to take their appearance. They are soft and sweet looking with freckles splattered all over their face yet the many spiked piercings has him wondering. Their sweater is black and has what looks to be light blue blood dripping down from the collar. Their small boots are spiked and they wear pink tights under their black shorts.

Virgil doesn’t say anything and neither do they. It does wonders for his anxiety. Before he knows it he’s twitching under their gaze. Just as it seems they’ll just keep staring, they laugh a bubbly giggly thing. Virgil shrinks as they lean down and open up their backpack. The decoration on their black headband looks like a bow but is actually a pastel green bat and holds back their pastel blue tinged hair, Virgil couldn’t tell from far away.

“Here!” The person holds out a bag full of little lollipops. They shake it a little at him when he doesn’t take one right away. He plucks one out without even looking. The person giggles again and continues on their walk down the hall without looking back.

He makes it to his science class without trouble, the lollipop actually being a nice treat after he finished his lunch. He’s in the back this time, many students already talking in small groups at the two-person high tables. It’s awkward. He twitches in his spot, debating if he can jump out the window and to the track field that is oh so close to this side of the school. He can see it and the itch is real.

Someone sits next to him and he jumps at the scrape their chair makes. He’s surprisingly relieved to find it’s Logan. From what he’s seen Logan is very particular with who he talks to, he guesses he should be lucky that Logan chose to sit next to him. Though there’s a chance no other seat is open.

It’s quiet, mostly watching a video on lab safety and please don’t touch things that aren’t meant to be touched. Virgil’s surprised Logan keeps his mouth shut.

This time when class ends, Logan waits for him, just outside the hall at least, nodding his head and walking away. Virgil finds himself smiling then heading to the weights room. He knows where this room is having been there earlier for cross country practice.

The machines are a welcoming noise. A few of his team members are there too, waving him over and calling his name. He joins Sloane and Joan by the calf raise equipment.

“So how is your first day?” Joan has a smirk on his face. Virgil whines and puts his hands on his face.

“I’m making friends at least? I think I am..” He mumbles. Sloane laughs and drops his legs from the machine he’s working with.

“Don’t forget you have us too,” He smiles brightly and Virgil feels a bit of gratitude for him, Joan too. They don’t see each other during the day but if they have this hour together then, it’ll be nice.

He waves goodbye to them and since the slight work out is feeling much less anxious about the rest of his day. He manages to find his language class on his own. He didn’t want to take a language class but he knew it would be good for him to try. He’s just really rusty on his sign language skills.

There’s very few kids in the classroom, he’s not super surprised. What he is surprised by is that everyone has a lollipop in their mouth. It’s not hard to find the culprit, that same messy head of pastel blue hair. They smile super brightly to Virgil and enthusiastically wave him over so much he fears they might fall out of their seat.

“Hello again!” They say in a loud whisper. Virgil smiles as best he can and accepts another lollipop.

“My name is Patton, if you ever need a sweet fix, I got you covered,” They wink and put their lollipop back between their teeth. It’s a good feeling. Patton sits daintily with a smile on their face. Their bubbly personality clashes a little with their darker clothing, but Virgil supposes he’s not one to talk with his own dark clothing being on the cross country team.

The teacher is sweet, talking in sign as much as they can until the students admit they can’t understand. It’s a smaller learning class and that makes it easier to learn in the end.

“I’m so excited!” Patton latches onto his arm once class is over, hanging onto him and letting Virgil guide him to his locker.

“Our final project sounds like so much fun~” He’s far too excited to be standing in front of a group of his peers and judged by them. Virgil shrank in his seat when he heard of the news.

“So you’re new are you making any friends?” Patton leans up beside him, making small talk. Virgil shrugs.

“I guess so?” He says. Patton giggles and brushes his arm. Virgil shies away from the touch and watches as Patton skips outside. Friends. Yeah maybe, maybe not. He gathers what little he needs including those parental sign forms and heads outside. He ran to school earlier due to practice, but he knows once it gets colder, and his backpack becomes more heavy, he’s going to need rides. That will be fun in the most unfun way.

He’s tying his bag to his waist when spies Patton leaning on the handlebars of Logan’s motorcycle. Virgil watches them for a moment then looks away quickly when they look his way. He makes his way to the street and crosses, then runs home. It’s not a bad trek, a good one if he might say so himself. He nearly trips and falls when a bright red cherry car honks at him, a hand sticking out of the sun roof. A small laugh bubbles out of him.

“Hello honey!” His mom yells once he opens the door. He wipes sweat from his forehead and heads towards her.

“How was school? Make any friends?” She asks. Virgil fills up his water bottle, a small smile on his face.

“Yeah, yeah I think I did.”

* * *

 

“He’s cute~”

“Shut up Patton.”

“He’s just your type too isn’t he?”

“Shut _up_  Patton.”

“I heard he’s on the cross country team you know what that means?”

“You’re going to tell me whether I want you to or not.”

“It means, he’s got muscle, probably very toned, and  _amazing_  endurance.”

“Patton shut your damn mouth.” Patton gets off from his semi-seductive leaning on Logan’s bike. Logan is still looking over to where the new kid disappeared on the street, jogging home by the looks of it.

“He’s tall too.”

“I will run you over.” Patton giggles at the threat and waves as Roman honks at them as he exits the parking lot. Virgil’s a sweet boy from what he’s seen so far. He wouldn’t be a bad addition to their group. Logan clearly is crushing already, and Roman he knows is quick to make friends. Patton smiles. Maybe it could work.


End file.
